Down in Flames (Wildfire Hearts Book 5)

by Savannah Kade

"That's not good." Her dad stated the obvious.

  "No. It's not. And it shows us that he's willing to send us messages as each other. If you get a message from me that seems odd, you may need to double-check it first."

  Her father nodded, catching on. "Call your mom and tell her what happened, too."

  Tierney agreed as, across the bar, Axel tipped his beer at her. "This the guy that's been bothering you?"

  Such a mild way to put it, as though she were dealing with a bully in the school hallway. She nodded.

  "I'll keep my eye out," he volunteered, and she appreciated the gesture, as though anyone keeping their eye out for Elliot would solve any of the problem.

  Heading into the back office, she was already dialing her mother and took a few minutes to explain not only what had happened, but what her mother should be on the lookout for. She considered calling Ronan and warning him but contact between them would still be harsh. Clearly, Elliot had a way into her phone. Maybe he'd installed a hidden tracking app, too.

  Getting a burner phone was looking smarter and maybe even necessary. Climbing into her car again, an impending sense of dread settled over her. This was just what Elliot wanted. Another reminder to let her know he could get to her anywhere, anytime.

  Still, she stopped at the gas station, paid cash and bought herself a cheap phone. Maybe he wouldn't know about this.

  Tierney tried to figure out how to message Ronan. But if she messaged him from the burner phone, and Ronan's phone was also being traced or watched, then the number coming in and the message would be a clear line right back to the burner phone, making all of this completely useless. At least her stop at the gas station would appear normal.

  She was just leaving when her old phone buzzed again. She wondered if it was Elliot mocking her once more. Again, the message said it was from her father. But this time, she knew better. It was on the new chain, the one that clearly wasn't her dad.

  The new message made it clear that he knew that she’d caught on. It said only, "hahaha."

  She was shaking her head, her anger flaring, both at him and at herself for falling for it. How had she been so stupid?

  She'd been so adamant that Ronan wasn't prepared for what Elliot would throw at him, that she'd missed a softball herself. Stuffing the phone into her back pocket, she climbed furiously back into her car to go home. As she did, she heard the sirens and saw the fire truck whizzing by.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  The noise of the trucks should have gotten quieter, not louder, as Tierney made her way home. As she followed their call, the dread that settled over her changed from nebulous to solid.

  The lights were turning down her street. The chief's little red pickup was strategically parked to stop her from even turning onto her block.

  Shit.

  Smoke billowed upward as Tierney was forced to drive past her turn. Slamming the brakes, she squealed the car to a stop on the side of the road that was perpendicular to hers. She jumped out so fast that she forgot her purse, then slammed the door behind her and bolted forward. In a moment of clarity, she remembered to turn around and aim her key fob back to lock the car ... as if any ordinary lock would keep anything safe.

  She desperately wanted it to not be her house. But what would that mean? Would it be Mrs. Wentworth's house on fire? Would the woman already be dead from smoke inhalation?

  The smoke wasn't a tiny spire of gray headed into the sky, but a column of black, rising up wide and ugly. She heard the shouts of the firefighters and even recognized some of the voices. She knew these guys. They’d been in the bar more times than she could count. Chief Taggert was always friendly to her, often buying a round for the guys when she tried to insist that it was on the house. Now all she could do was be grateful they were here and helping.

  She ran down the street, where she could see that no, it was not Mrs. Wentworth's little bungalow that was on fire, but her own home.

  Rex stood at the perimeter, holding up a hand to stop her. He was clearly watching for civilians, but she wasn't a civilian here, was she? She was the one whose home was burning.

  "Tierney? No, you can't," he said when his hand out didn't stop her.

  Turning, he laced one arm around her waist, pulling her back against him in a way only the most familiar could do. For a moment, she forgot who and what she was. She kicked and screamed.

  "Is Sean in there?" he asked calmly.

  She knew the technique: demanding a yes or no answer about something important enough to get her attention.

  "No," she said.

  Shouldn't he have known that? Didn't they all know Sean was gone? That he was somewhere they couldn't find him.

  This couldn't be a coincidence. Tierney was simultaneously grateful that Sean wasn't here to see this and petrified that she'd never see her own son again.

  "No," she said again. "Sean's not home."

  But something so important to Sean was.

  "Mr. Kittens!" she called out and Rex shook his head. She tried again. "I have a large orange tabby cat!"

  Even as she got smart enough to quit struggling, Tierney realized that she wasn't being smart enough to tell him pertinent information. "It's a mama cat. There are five baby kittens, just a week old. It's a box in the corner of the dining area! Right front corner of the house."

  She was trying so hard to be useful.

  "I got it," he told her as though she were making sense. "I'll get the guys."

  Still holding her tightly with one hand—as if he knew she would run if given a chance—he restrained her even though she'd quit struggling.

  Tierney wasn't sure if she'd actually decided to trust the firefighters or if her quiet was going to be a decoy so she could bolt later. Rex was having none of it anyway.

  She listened to the comms as he relayed all of the information. She heard the responses as the guys said they were on it. But were they? Could they be? Was Mr. Kittens even still alive?

  Behind her another voice came up. "You can go join the crew. I've got her. I'll watch the street."

  Tierney turned around, almost saying his name. But what was even the point? Of course, Ronan was here. No matter what she did, he wouldn’t stay away. He refused to make her life easier.

  Rex looked at him for a moment. "You're not on shift."

  "Humor me, dude. I've been listening to the scanner. I've got nothing better to do. At least let me be useful."

  He didn't try to go closer to the fire. Even Tierney knew that he shouldn't without the proper gear. And being off duty would create a legal nightmare should anything go wrong.

  But this was just the end of the street, and Ronan was one of their own. So Rex nodded.

  Tierney watched as Ronan took over for his shift-mate, placing himself between her and her own home. Rex returned to the group in front of her house. They'd hooked up a large hose, and she couldn't see if anyone had rescued her cats.

  Ronan's gaze scanned down the street, as though anyone else might go running and yelling and try to get past him. She stood there, breathing heavily, not realizing until she felt the wetness on her shirt that she was crying.

  Everything was in that house. Everything she hadn't been able to pack in one duffel bag for Sean. His baby clothes, the book of photos from his whole life, the ultrasound from her first visit to the doctor here in Redemption. She remembered Mom Doyle clutching her hand and, instead of berating Tierney for being a stupid, pregnant sixteen-year-old who was still hardly answering to her new name, the woman had been excited about her new grandchild. Tierney's own parents—she thought of them so often as Emily's parents—hadn't cared as much for the child as for the fact that Emily had managed to tie them to a family as wealthy as the Vander clefs.

  She sniffed as she thought of all of it burning. Thank God Mom and Dad had their own pictures.

  Ronan stood, not making contact with her, not treating her the way he had just a few moments before. She deserved his silence. She knew she'd skewered him with what she'd said
.

  Now he pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapping on an app and listening to the scanner. She could easily hear police chatter about the fire that was consuming her home as she watched. At least the water was turned on now. It must have happened right after she bolted to go see her dad.

  She heard Taggart saying he suspected arson. Ronan didn't need to relay the information to her. Her life shattering around her could be heard clearly enough.

  Her tongue filled her mouth, her jaw clenched, and she fought back the second onslaught of tears as she waited for word of the kittens. Having no idea how long she'd stood there, she pulled her own phone out and noted the time. At least she would have an actual account of her personal tragedy as everything about her internal radar was completely off.

  Her thoughts slowly righted themselves, and she straightened her back. Elliot would want her distraught and cowed. She couldn't show any weakness, even if it coursed through her veins, overriding the furious heat that threatened underneath. Wiping her face clean, Tierney slowly rotated until she'd scanned the entire neighborhood.

  Elliot had texted her hahaha. She thought he meant he'd fooled her, that he'd made her think something was wrong. But what it really meant was that he was laughing about something he knew that she didn't. Something he hoped would break her.

  More chatter grabbed her attention from the scanner. In the distance, she watched chief Taggart pulling up his own comm even as Ronan frowned at what was coming through. It was another house fire being reported. What was the likelihood of two, simultaneous house fires in a town this size?

  The voice rattled off the address, and she didn't put it together until Taggert and Ronan turned to each other. They made eye contact across the distance. Stark looks mirrored on their faces before Taggert bolted for his truck. Ronan abandoned his position as he ran, probably aiming down the street for his own car.

  It was his house.

  Oh shit, she thought. Elliot was just getting started.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Ronan stood beside Tierney, neither of them speaking, both with their arms crossed as they watched the firefighters put out the last of the blaze at his house. The fire had mostly damaged one room—Paddy's.

  Tierney hadn't commented on that and neither had the chief. Certainly, something in that particular room could have short circuited and started a blaze, but the initial assessment by the investigators was that a candle had been knocked over and caught the fluffy, baby-room curtains on fire.

  Ronan didn't for one second believe that he'd left a candle burning in a room he didn't go into. He also didn't light candles, because he was a damned firefighter. Not only had his house been set on fire—at least it hadn't burned to the ground—but they'd gone after his most sentimental room. And made it look like it was his fault. This wasn't random, he knew. This was Elliot Vander clef.

  Finally, as the chief turned and looked at the two of them, Tierney whispered, "I'm sorry."

  As if any of this were her fault. He didn't blame her, and she'd certainly taken the worst of it. At least his house was salvageable. Hers wasn't going to be. She'd be lucky if she could even save a few items.

  "Can I go inside?" he asked the chief but wasn't surprised when he was told no.

  "You know the rules. Later you can have a guided tour. In this case, you're a civilian and can't touch the evidence and all that."

  Chief Taggart then looked to Tierney, as if she might not know the rules. "You can't go inside your place at all. I'm afraid it's a total loss. It's not even about evidence, it's about safety."

  She nodded, having already figured that out.

  "You'll both need to find somewhere else to stay tonight."

  The chief turned as if to return to the work, but then looked back at them. "My dad has a cabin out of town by the lake. It's nothing special, but one or both of you can use it. It's free." He paused. "Who would even think to look for you there?"

  "That's ... generous," Ronan replied, not quite sure how to respond. At least the chief understood they were both likely in shock and he made it easy.

  "The key is under the stone frog at the corner of the porch. I'll text you the address."

  Ronan was nodding, but Tierney jumped in and said, "No. Please write it on paper? We don't know that he's not monitoring our texts."

  It took a minute to find paper and pen, but then Ronan was holding the note and had nothing else to do. He still couldn't quite find the urge to move. He just stared at the gray smoke swirling upward into the sky as if his memories and hard work were being carried away with it.

  Tierney had driven him here. They'd both jumped in her car because it was closer. The firefighters had come out just then and thrust the box of kittens at her. As of yet, Mr. Kittens was nowhere to be seen but the babies—despite having little sooty marks on their fur—seemed to be fine.

  So Ronan held them on his lap as they raced over here to assess whatever other damage Vander clef had caused. The two of them for whatever reason, were suddenly operating like a well-oiled machine rather than two people who seemed to have completely opposing feelings for each other.

  Ronan surveyed the wet home, knowing the power and water had been cut and the place was going to have a gaping hole in the side for a while. More than that, he was waiting for the next hit to come. Tierney's home, then his, had been a nice one-two punch.

  It was Tierney who moved first. He should have figured that she was far more resilient than he'd given her credit for. Though he'd seen things, and even lost his wife and child in a horrific tragedy, he'd always been given his time to grieve. He’d not needed to be as resilient as Tierney clearly already was.

  "I need to get the kittens to the vet."

  He nodded and turned to follow her, still not ready to produce words.

  It was only after they were both back in her car, driving away from the police officers lining his yard and front door with crime scene tape, that she asked, "Do you want me to drop you at your car?"

  All he could do was shake his head no and look out the window. Clearly, he didn't know what he wanted. He'd become completely untethered. No more home, no more illusion of safety. Ronan found himself needing Tierney as his anchor. Taking his non-comment as a chance to make her own decision, she had taken the shorter route and gone directly to the vet.

  She'd knocked on the door despite the sign. A young woman had come to answer. "I'm so sorry. We're actually not open for three more days."

  "I know," Tierney agreed. "Can you tell Zadie that it's Tierney and the kittens? We were just in a house fire."

  "Oh, my God!" The young woman looked them up and down, swinging the door wide now to let them in. Within moments they were in one of the brand new exam rooms, possibly the first patients. Maybe not, Zadie had been running a small animal shelter next door that she'd managed to open in time for the crawl.

  Five quick exams later, Zadie pronounced all the kittens in good health. She offered a trap on loan, which Ronan readily accepted, so they could hopefully capture Mr. Kittens. At least there was absolutely no sign she'd stayed in the house. Then Zadie loaded them up with treats for bait and kitten milk in case they couldn't find mom.

  A handful of instructions later, there was a bill that clearly made Tierney wince and had Ronan digging in his pocket. Between his accident, his car insurance, and his weeks at partial pay for medical leave, he didn't quite have the balance either. But Tierney had just lost everything. He didn't have it in him to make her pay for it.

  Zadie eyed the two of them as they looked at the paper. "Shit. Hold on. How about you cover just the costs? We're not really open yet. You didn't get the full treatment and you shouldn't have to pay for it ... I'm guessing you guys just lost a lot with the fire."

  Tierney nodded, clearly relieved as Ronan paid the reduced bill as Zadie tried to figure out how to work the machine and take money. Clearly, it was something the front staff was going to do.

  "If you need me to cover more, I can," he told her.


  Zadie waved him away with a look that told him more than she said. "I've been there."

  Whatever had happened in her past, she understood what it was to lose everything.

  Reaching out, she hugged Tierney. "You're doing a really good thing." She nodded toward the kittens. "Especially given everything else on your plate and you saved them from the house fire—"

  "The firefighters did that," Tierney corrected her, but Ronan shook his head.

  "I heard you. The kittens were the only thing you told them to save."

  Tierney offered a reluctant grin, thanked him for covering the bill, and thanked Zadie for reducing it. Something in the vet's eyes told Ronan she was far more worried for Tierney than for the too-young kittens.

  But all he could do was follow her out the door with a box of mewling babies. In the car again, he figured Tierney would drop him off and head her separate way. But he couldn't bear that.

  Somehow, she managed to get a word in first. "Are you going to stay with your parents?"

  "No. You?"

  She gave a very solid no answer. She was not going to bring this to their doorstep, and he felt the same about his own family. But how could he protect them? He wasn't sure how many layers out the circle went. Obviously, his being separate from Tierney didn't keep him from being a target.

  They could stay together. They could be together.

  But did she really hate him and want him gone? Or had she just lashed out to make him leave?

  Though the truth about Siorse still pierced him, he could separate it from Tierney. "We can find a place together."

  She nodded, acquiescing easily, though it clearly wasn't what she wanted to do. Maybe it was simply because she needed to save the money.

  He figured she could drop him at his car. But he wasn't quite willing to let go that easily. What if she drove away? What if she changed her mind while they were in separate vehicles? So he copied the information the chief had given him onto a separate paper and he asked, "Should we take Taggart up on his offer?"